


Bound to The Lord

by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Courfeyrac POV, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, F/F, I honestly had a blast writing this, Not mocking but somewhat unsavory, if joking about religion isn't your cup of tea I don't recommend this fic for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 05:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18584878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade/pseuds/ShitpostingfromtheBarricade
Summary: Soon after Éponine and Cosette start dating, Éponine begins turning to religion in her times of joy and strife.OR 5 Times Éponine turned to religion, and 1 time she didn't.Warnings:sacrilege,The Invitationspoilers (not essential to understanding the plot), allusions to sexual content





	Bound to The Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [PieceOfCait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieceOfCait/pseuds/PieceOfCait) for beta-reading...and then tolerating me not posting it for another two months. XD

**1.**

Courfeyrac knows with absolute certainty—is totally, 100% sure—that there is no way Grantaire can drink a full quart of warm milk and two tabs of sleeping pills and stay up the entire night. It’s impossible. No mortal has yet attempted it and been awake eight hours later to tell the tale.

Which is why Courfeyrac has no qualms in being the one to put up the paltry three euro it’ll take to win back twenty more from his overconfident friend.

He’s debating the effectiveness of generic versus name brand (Does ten cents really matter when twenty euros is on the line?) when he spots a familiar face sidling up next to him, entirely absorbed in her task.

“Éponine!” Courfeyrac calls, only realizing too late that his volume is wildly inappropriate for speaking with someone under a meter away.

It’s usually difficult to startle Éponine, but today he’s managed. She jumps, and in her surprise several things fall from her handheld basket.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Let me get those for you,” he offers.

“Jesus Christ, Courf,” is her response as she kneels beside him, gathering her items. There’s a lovely purple silk scarf, coconut oil, a striped fleece blanket…

“Joint pain again, huh?”

Éponine gives him a questioning look before noticing the anti-inflammatory cream he holds up.

“Oh yeah. I’m trying to get into running with Cosette in the mornings before work, but those hills are killer.” 

Éponine and Cosette have only officially been dating for a week (following the most painful several months of courtship Courfeyrac has ever been forced to silently abide), but they may already be in the running for most adorable couple to have ever existed. 

“You okay, though?” Courfeyrac asks Éponine as they stand, items finally collected. “You seem a bit…wired.”

Éponine bites the inside of her mouth, eyes turning downward for a flash before returning to his. “Yeah. Just…got a big night ahead of me.”

“Yeah?” Courfeyrac smirks expectantly. “How big?”

Éponine takes a big breath, exhaling it with an excited grin. “Baptism into The Faith.” 

Courfeyrac has no idea how she makes it so clear that the phrase is capitalized, but it goes without doubt.

“No shit? I had no idea you were religious, that’s awesome!”

She releases a bashful chuckle. “Well, Cosette has shown me the way, and when you find something worth bringing yourself to your knees for,” she shrugs, trailing off.

It crosses his mind to make a lewd comment, but people's religious beliefs—so long as they don’t encroach on others’ rights—are one of very few topics he’s always felt crosses a line to make light of. Instead, he turns the subject back to her.

“Do you want any of us to come with you? Would that make you feel better?”

She meets Courfeyrac’s eyes, crooked smile looking a little odd in the company of the unfamiliar flush in her cheeks. “Thanks, but this is between me and my salvation.” She checks her phone. “Sorry to be short, but I’ve got some things that need done before I give myself over to an eternity in paradise, or whatever.”

She leaves before Courfeyrac can say anything else, fingers waggling over her shoulder as she exits the aisle.

 _Weird,_ he thinks. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Éponine truly restless. Religion does strange things to people, he privately admits. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be good for her. Since she and Cosette started their strange courtship she’s only become more relaxed, more open, and altogether much happier than he’s ever seen her before; it follows suit that Éponine may start to explore other things that bring her joy.

Religion may suit her, he decides.

And with that, Courfeyrac settles on name brand and starts toward self-checkout for the easiest €20 he has ever made. 

 

**2.**

Everyone is already at their stations in the meeting room preparing materials for their latest project when Éponine appears.

It’s immediately clear that it has been a rough day: the trudging steps, the heaviness in her shoulders, the way she collapses into the armchair at the back of the room. 

Courfeyrac rubs his neck and sighs, unsure of what to do. Éponine hates being crowded and fawned over when she’s in a bad mood, but it feels wrong to ignore a friend in need. A cast around the room proves that most of his friends seem to be fretting over the same dilemma, posters and slogans long-forgotten.

Realizing the sudden silence, Courfeyrac leads the charge in picking up the background noise again, goading Joly and half the rest of the group into a battle of puns before turning back to the code before him on the laptop.

It’s only because his station is set up so close to Éponine that he even notices Cosette’s quiet approach. The latter stops behind Éponine, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to her hairline. It’s such an intimate moment that Courfeyrac feels guilty for having witnessed it at all and quickly turns back to his computer.

“What can I do for you?” he hears Cosette murmur.

Éponine deflates, all of the air rushing out of her in a single gust.

“Can we go to mass tonight?” Éponine’s tone is softer than any Courfeyrac has ever heard from her. “I just…I need reminded that there’s a higher power in my life right now.”

“Of course, Babe,” comes Cosette’s response. “Let me tell Enjolras, and then we’ll head out. You okay to wait here until I’m back?”

Courfeyrac can only assume Éponine’s response as Cosette appears in the corner of his eye, making her way toward Enjolras and speaking with him in hushed tones. Enjolras nods, looking back toward Éponine for a brief moment as Cosette makes her return.

A minute later, Cosette has her arm wrapped around Éponine and is calling their goodbyes as they disappear into the stairwell.

The room continues its feigned productivity for several more brave minutes before Enjolras speaks up.

“I hadn’t realized that Éponine took her faith so seriously.”

There’s a snort in retaliation that can only have come from one person. “Blind devotion to liberty and patria aren’t enough for all of us,” Grantaire quips bitterly.

Enjolras’s demeanor quickly shifts to consternation, and his mouth opens to respond. 

“I think her faith is beautiful,” Jehan interrupts, celestial being of perfection that they are.

“Faith can be a powerful thing for some people,” Combeferre agrees, shooting a subtle glance in Enjolras’s direction.

“I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing,” Enjolras huffs. “I just didn’t realize it had become such a big part of her life.

After a beat, Joly speaks up. “Does anyone know her denomination?”

The room is silent in response. “She’s mentioned mass before, so probably Catholic?” Courfeyrac volunteers.

“She was talking about being baptized,” Bossuet adds, “so it’s definitely a denomination of Christianity.”

“She has that choker with the crosses on it, but I always assumed it was just for the aesthetic,” Grantaire admits. “Catholicism would definitely check out.”

Speculation continues for a while before Joly speaks up once more. “It’s obviously important to her, so we should definitely make it a priority to learn more about it so we can support her.”

There’s a murmur of assent throughout the room before Courfeyrac returns his attention to the group website, proud to have such awesome friends.

 

**3.**

Courfeyrac is sitting on the opposite side of the couch from Cosette alternating his attention between his knitting, his conversation with Cosette, and the great and terrible romance of Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth on the screen before them.

“And then—you aren’t going to believe this—she actually has the nerve,” Courfeyrac continues, checking the vibration of his phone. 

 

[15.35] **Ép:** is Cosette w/ u

 

Courfeyrac rolls his eyes. Long ago the group had established a system for identifying each of the C’s in three letters or fewer. And yeah, it’s cute that Cosette’s is the only of the C-names (or any name, now that he thinks about it) that she types out—capitalizes, even—but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t also pompous as fuck.

“Sette,” Courfeyrac groans, “your girlfriend is being needy.”

“Oh, right, I’ve had my phone off,” Cosette says, knitting steadily through Colin Firth’s aquatic adventures. “Can you ask her what it’s about? Our gossip is hardly done.”

 

[15.36] **You:** ye y

 

It’s only a moment before the response comes.

 

[15.36] **Ép:** confessional

 

Courfeyrac conveys the message. 

“Oh dear,” Cosette frets. “She’ll be needing me then.”

Courfeyrac makes a confused noise. “Can’t she go by herself?” It’s been a while since the last time he was in a church—he really only attends mass when he visits family these days—but he is pretty sure confession still works the same way in every country.

“Oh no, this is something she needs me for.” Cosette checks the time on her watch. “Can you let her know I’ll be there in an hour? I’m turning on my phone now so she can text me instead of bothering you, but I need to hear what happened to Mme M, and there’s no way I’m leaving until I see what becomes of our dear Mr. Darcy.”

Courfeyrac smiles and quickly relays the information. Éponine doesn’t respond to him, but based on the periodic texts that Cosette sends through the rest of his story and the film he assumes that the message has been received.

 

**4.**

It’s Thursday, which means Éponine and Courfeyrac are supposed to be meeting for sandwiches to gossip about the latest episode of their favorite trashy reality TV show. However, Courfeyrac’s sandwich has been purchased, received, and consumed, and the woman is still nowhere to be found. He checks his phone, worried. It’s not like Éponine to be late without notice. He glances at the time, noting that he still has thirty-five minutes left of his lunch break, and decides to go to her workplace to check in on her.

Éponine works at a bank. She was a teller in university, and since then she’s only moved up the ranks—to absolutely no one’s surprise. Though she doesn’t make the policies, Courfeyrac thinks working at a bank suits her: numbers, deadlines, order. Something very clearly-stated that she has full control over. And what’s more, she’s good at her job—very, _very_ good.

“Hello!” Courfeyrac greets cheerily when he arrives at the desk of Éponine’s secretary. Éponine’s office door is shut behind the desk, which means nothing, but the darkened windows give him pause.

“Courf!” croons the older woman at the desk, standing. “It’s been too long Baby. How’ve you been?”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Courfeyrac apologizes, leaning down to hug the woman and pressing kisses to both of her dark cheeks. “I’ve been good. How about you? And Roger?”

“Roger’s just about done with university, lookin’ to start his Master’s in something I don’t understand,” the woman responds, smiling. “What brings you ‘round these parts?”

“Our Miss Thénardier was supposed to join me for lunch,” Courfeyrac explains apologetically. “Any idea where she might be?”

“Oh, she must’ve forgotten to tell you: she put in a notice for a half-day last week. Guess her church is doin’ some kinda ‘experimental service.’ She seemed excited for it.”

Courfeyrac’s face morphs into a dramatic pout. “So she won’t be back today?”

“The way she was saying, she wasn’t sure if she’d be back in tomorrow. Her church is on some intense shit, I don’t know.” The woman stops to smile genuinely. “Whatever it is, it’s been good for her. She’s always done good work, but she seems much less stressed about it now, and everyone can tell.”

Courfeyrac reaches out, squeezing the woman’s hand appreciatively. Éponine’s up there with Wonder Woman and Serena Williams in his eyes, and it always makes him happy to see her surrounded by people who see her similarly.

“Thank you,” he responds, hoping she understands.

 

**5.**

“Wait, you’ve actually gone to Éponine and Cosette’s weird cult-church?” Bahorel exclaims. He receives a knock to the back of the head and a stern look from Joly.

Irma smiles back at them, undeterred. “Yeah, a couple of weeks ago. I wasn’t sure at first, but I ended up really enjoying myself.”

“What was it like? Where is it? Are you gonna go again?” Courfeyrac excitedly scrambles. It’s been months since Éponine’s baptism, and this is the closest any of them have gotten to uncovering more information about the mysterious church.

“It was…” Irma’s eyes glaze over in thought. “Thorough. I definitely see why Ép keeps going back. I’ll absolutely go again if I’m invited.”

“‘If you’re invited’?” Grantaire repeats, making a face. “What is this, Catholicism for vampires?”

“It’s a small congregation,” Irma explains. “They’re not really accustomed to outside visitors. It’s not really something you invite yourself to, y’know?” she shrugs, passing out more bottles and collecting empties. “I _definitely_ wouldn’t feel comfortable inviting someone on their behalf.”

Irma smiles brightly before departing, her tray of bottle, glasses, and pitchers carefully balanced on a raised hand as she leaves. The men sit in silence for several beats after her departure.

“So…” Bahorel eventually says.

“It’s a cult,” Courfeyrac states flatly.

“Definitely a cult,” Grantaire agrees with a swig.

“It certainly doesn’t seem _un_ cult-like,” Joly admits.

“Hey, as long as they don’t try to pull any _Invitation_ shit on us.” Bahorel shudders.

Joly jumps on the idea. “Oh God, can you imagine Marius as the ex, though? With his new boo that keeps trying to convince him to leave?”

“Which half of the gay couple survived again? Was it the doctor or the non-doctor?” Grantaire pulls out his phone. “I need to know if I’m going to be stuck with Joly or Bossuet the rest of my days.”

“Uh, that won’t be necessary,” Bossuet informs him. “If we spot a red lantern, we’re out of there.”

“I’m taking it a step farther and just declining all dinner invitations from them from here on out, Cosette’s charming little cocktails be damned,” Bahorel declares.

“I feel like I’m probably slated not to survive that dinner,” Courfeyrac shrugs, “but honestly I think it’d be worth the cost of admission just to watch it play out.”

Everyone sits in silence.

“Let’s just agree not to do dinner parties in our group anymore,” Joly suggests.

Five bottles raise in the air in agreement.

 

**+1**

The dinner party is at Courfeyrac’s favorite restaurant, which he thinks makes it okay. It’s especially easy to forget about his worries of the past when the food is _so good._

“Guys, seriously, you have to try this.” 

Joly, sitting to Courfeyrac’s right, declines the food with a face that Courfeyrac really should have anticipated before offering to share a utensil. 

Grantaire on the other side of him seems to have no qualms with forking between friends and accepts the bite, chewing slowly before he swallows. “That _is_ really good,” he agrees. He turns to his other side. “Cosette, try this.”

“Do it!” Courfeyrac spears another bite and reaches past Grantaire to offer it.

Cosette shakes her head, putting up both hands to decline. “Sorry, I can’t eat pork.”

“Did you become vegetarian or something?” Courfeyrac pauses, suddenly incensed. “Is this some fad diet?? Because if you think—”

“No, no,” Cosette dismisses with a laugh. “It’s just not kosher.”

“Kosher?” Grantaire interjects, mouth full. “Isn’t that a Jewish thing?”

Cosette gives him a confused look. “Yeah, my dad and I are Jewish. Ever since he adopted me. You didn’t know?”

There’s shocked silence around the table. 

“But…Éponine’s Catholic?” Enjolras finally postures, question clear in his tone.

“Oh,” Cosette murmurs, smiling coquettishly. “Yes, well…Éponine’s a very special sect.”

Almost as if on cue, Éponine returns from paying the bill.

“Come on Babe, mass starts soon.” She kisses Cosette on the cheek before looking around at the rest of the table. “Three hours. Lots of kneeling. We’re both very excited.”

Cosette stands and begins her exit with Éponine. Before they exit she pauses, winking back at the speechless table.

Marius is the first to speak. “…is now a weird time to bring up that Cosette never bottomed even once in our relationship?” 

Courfeyrac sighs, removing a twenty from his wallet. “Yes, but painfully relevant.” Combeferre reaches across the table and extracts the bill without taking his eyes off of Marius. 

The rest of the table sits in silence, the events of the past year playing over in their heads with new understanding.

“Wait a second,” Grantaire interrupts. “Didn’t Jehan go to church with them last week?”

Everyone turns to look at the auburn-haired person calmly sipping their iced tea at the end of the table. Their eyes flicker up, somehow complacent and defiant all at once as the straw falls away from their mouth. 

“Not quite the 'prince of peace' I've heard purported,” they shrug, “but she certainly makes do.” They take another prolonged slurp of their drink before continuing. “I can confirm the rumors, though: all ye faithful, came.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to hell either way, but my baby sister is at an Ivy League getting her masters in religious studies, so I think that my sentence gets compounded somehow, with interest. (Also, this fic was inspired by the fact that I think this would be a _hilariously_ offensive innuendo to use in front of her.)
> 
> Anyway, what did you think? Were you surprised? Let me know below or harass me on or off anon at my [tumblr](http://shitpostingfromthebarricade.tumblr.com).


End file.
